the girl in the green house » david dobrik au

six

"Luella, quit picking at your plate," my mother warned, an edge to her tone. My freedom for summer days only lasted so long, and by six thirty, I was always getting talked down to about something I was doing wrong.

"Sorry, mother," I sighed, stabbing my fork into a carrot and shoving it into my mouth, a fake smile on my face as I chewed. There was never anything wrong with our food; we had a cook to do it all. Still, something about it seemed wrong. Maybe it was the fact that we always ate on perfect china and always sat very spaced out at a dinner table too big for the three of us. Maybe it was because dinner was really the only time I had to be with both my parents at once on an every day basis.

There was also the fact that there was always a fourth place set at the dinner table. Always. Without fail, there was always an extra spot in case Cal came home and decided to join us for pot roast. It seemed highly unlikely and was a terrible coping mechanism on behalf of my parents. So yeah, I hated eating dinner, and I never seemed to have an appetite.

"What'd you do yesterday?" she asked, and just by the tone of her voice, I knew she knew something.

"Uh, I went to get lunch and went to sit at the river to eat, like always. And then I went to the tailors to get your dresses. And then I went to Corinna's for dinner."

It was only half a lie. Really, more of me withholding the truth than lying. God would forgive.

"Who was here?" she asked, and the look in her eyes only grew more serious. She knew. How'd she know? I knew for a fact we didn't have cameras outside or in the house. Could Gloria have sold me out?

"At the house? No one," I tried, but I saw her lip twitch.

"Well, Laura Wittek said that Jeff told her he saw a car in the driveway when he drove by. So someone was here."

I didn't even comment on the fact that Jeff was most definitely doing a drive-by of our house, considering he lived ten minutes away and the only thing past our house in Calhoun was Big Creek Park, where he wouldn't be caught dead. Too many poor people germs.

"Oh, yeah. Maude made her grandson drive me home," I chose that route for my lie. "She didn't want me to crash my bike with all those dresses, so she told him to. His name's David. He's real nice."

"I didn't know Maude's grandson was in town," my dad commented. "He was the one you played with after George's funeral."

"You remember that?" I frowned.

"Yeah. Only because everyone kept trying to get Maude inside the fellowship hall to eat, but she wouldn't leave you two on the playground," he told me. "We would've came and got you, but I think she liked the distraction. Poor woman. She really loved George. Don't think she's ever been the same since he died."

"Yeah, it's real sad. Every story she tells me, she always mentions him. Like she didn't have a life before him. She's sweet," I sighed. "Anyway, David's helping her for the summer. Cleaning and cooking and helping at the store and stuff. He was real nice."

"You said that already," Margaret pointed out, and I immediately closed my mouth. "Don't bring people by the house unexpectedly. What if it wasn't ready to be shown?"

"It's always ready to be shown, Mother; you make sure of that," I hid the bitterness of my words with a light smile. "Besides, I'm sure David wouldn't notice if the floors haven't been waxed this week."

"No," she said, her tone just condescending enough to make me lose my appetite. "I'm sure he wouldn't."

"Can I be excused?" I asked after a short silence. "I'm not very hungry."

"You barely eat lunch. You're going to finish your dinner," she demanded. "You're already skin and bones. I don't need the whole town thinking I can't afford to feed you."

I sighed, shoving a bite of roast into my mouth and trying my hardest not to gag as I forced it down. I should be more appreciative. There are so many people around the world who go hungry every night, and I don't want to finish my dinner because I'm annoyed with my mother. That was the only thing that pushed me to eat. I couldn't send it to a food bank like this, so I had to finish it. I wasn't a wasteful person—at least I tried not to be. I made a mental note to run by the grocery store tomorrow and buy some canned food to donate to the church. They had a food bank going on, and they'd distribute it well.

"Did you tell Luella about the dinner this Saturday?" Daddy asked, and Margaret shook her head. He continued, "You need a new dress. We're having dinner with the city council at Town Hall this Saturday. I'm trying to get on their good side before I run for reelection."

"You're already on their good side," I half smiled. "Who else would be mayor of Calhoun?"

"The way the Kings are talking, he's thinking about running."

"...Matt?" I frowned, and Daddy laughed while my mother rolled her eyes like I was the stupidest person on this planet.

"No, child," she replied. "Matthew. Matt's father. Kendra told me he was interested. I don't know if he's actually going to do it, but we don't need a goddamn King running this town. He leans left."

So do I.

"Oh," I nodded. "I'll get a dress tomorrow."

After dinner, I thanked Marianne, our chef, for cooking and headed upstairs to take a much needed bath. I hadn't seen any of my friends that day, and it was raining, so I knew we couldn't go anywhere that night. It was quite exhausting being alone with all my thoughts. I had way too many for one person to handle.

In my bath, I thought of Cal. I daydreamed about him living in a big city, maybe with a new name. He was happy, and dating a pretty girl, and not bound to the shame that came with being an Emmerson in this town. Not that my mother or daddy saw it as shame.

No, they were very proud to be where they were in life. Of course, I was happy that I didn't have to work and everything in life was practically handed to me. I was happy that I wasn't treated like shit just for existing in a lower social class. But I could feel the shame, too.

The shame of being a girl who got everything she wanted, the girl who everyone saw as a spoiled brat. Most of the people in Calhoun at least acted like they liked me, but I'd hate to hear what they said about me behind my back.

Cal didn't have to deal with that anymore, and because of that, I pictured him as the luckiest and happiest man on this earth.

This is more of a filler but i wanted yall to see how she interacted with her parents

Xoxo abby